


Christmas Spirits

by concupiscence66



Category: Nathan Barley - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan spends Christmas trying to decide if it would be better to go to prison or apologize to Nathan Barley for a well-deserved beating.  Claire has sisterly advice, and Jones is fucking weird as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

2014  
The Offices of Sugar Ape

Dan Ashcroft was full of the Christmas spirit, and while that was probably due to all the spirits sloshing around in his stomach, he was still having a damn good time at the Sugar Ape Christmas party. Jonatton Yeah?’s latest plan to torture Dan had turned out to be one of his best ideas. Every month, Jonatton sent Dan to some new trendy restaurant or to see some idiot artist and Dan wrote a scathing review. People were begging to be reviewed by Dan, because of all the “ironic” interest his reviews stirred. Dan was making good money by being a miserable git. He was living the dream.

Plus, his mother had sent him his annual wardrobe early, so he had new clothes that fit properly. While Dan was aware that a person’s size changed as they gained or lost weight, he had never quite worked out how to apply it to himself. He just wore his clothes until they fell apart and accepted that some would hug his midsection in an unflattering way or that his trousers would either fall off or cut off his circulation. Every year, when his mother managed to send clothes that fit appropriately, Dan was quietly amazed. 

Everything she sent Claire was two sizes too large and looked like something the church organist would wear to service, but Dan was looking sharp in a new blazer and a nice stripy button down shirt over a pink tee-shirt. Claire called the color ‘salmon’, but Dan preferred to leave fish right out of his wardrobe. He resolved to wear more pink, as Sasha had called it a good color for Dan and Claire had posted a picture of him on her Instagram – the one she let their parents know about. It was good to take a break from being the walking disaster once in a while.

Dan was feeling warm and loose and ready to make some new friends when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection; a reflection which made him look a bit slighter and maybe a bit blond.

He waved at the reflection, and eventually it waved back, but it was far too eager and enthusiastic. Then the reflection started dancing.

Dan walked towards his reflection, hoping it was just the booze blurring his vision, but he could see Pingu standing by with his camera. It really was Nathan Barley, dressed head-to-toe like Dan. 

“Looking sharp!” Nathan yelled before laughing boisterously at his own lame attempt at a joke. 

Dan was vaguely aware that he was knocking over a Christmas tree as he and his prey fell to the ground, but his hands were around Nathan Barley’s neck and that was the only thing that mattered.

Xxx

1994  
The Offices of Sugar Ape

Dan tried to look at ease on his own, like the kind of person who didn’t need to be part of a group to feel secure. The open bar was helping.

“Oi, beanpole!”

Dan instinctively turned around. The DJ was waving for him to come closer. Dan wasn’t sure if the DJ was a boy or a girl or an actual woodland nymph, but he had bright blue eyes that pulled Dan forward.

“Parched, mate,” the DJ yelled. “Help me out!”

Dan handed his drink to the DJ, who shrugged before shooting the rest of Dan’s whiskey and soda.

The DJ returned his focus to the tables, and Dan realized he should have gotten the DJ his own drink. What kind of socially awkward dickhead would hand a stranger his own drink? Dan fucking Ashcroft: King of the Awkward Dickheads.

Xxx

2014  
The House of Jones

Dan Ashcroft: King of the Idiots was bleeding all over his front door until Jones came to the rescue. 

Jones looked him up and down.

“Nathan Barley?” 

Dan collapsed into Jones’ arms and allowed himself to be dragged to the couch. He flopped down on his side and found himself staring at two of the most recent additions to Jones’ Barbie doll collection. One was an adult with dark hair, big dark eyes and no eyebrows. The other was a little Black Barbie, who appeared to be somewhere around five and had her hair twisted up in pipe cleaners.

“Why are her eyebrows gone?” Dan asked. The dolls were making him feel panicky. 

“I need to redraw them,” Jones explained as he put a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dishtowel on Dan’s temple. Then he picked up the little girl doll. “Now I need to boil her head for a few seconds.”

Dan closed his eyes, unable to handle reality (or what passed for reality in Shoreditch) for one more moment.

Xxx

1994  
The Offices of Sugar Ape

Dan brought the DJ a fresh whiskey and soda, and a bottle of water from the bar. Up close, the DJ was clearly a man, and a pretty one at that. His face lit up at Dan’s gifts of beverage and it made Dan feel good. He had managed to negotiate a social situation with a modicum of skill. He felt almost like a proper adult rather than a child playing dress up. Then Dan crashed on one of the office sofas, because he was too drunk to stand. He wondered if he’d ever be able to keep up with the crowd at Sugar Ape. 

It was Jones that woke him up. The music had stopped and most of the people were gone. Dan leaned on Jones as he stumbled out of the office. Dan couldn’t remember his address, so he spent the night at Jones’ squat. Despite all the creepy toys, Dan felt more comfortable on the couch at Jones’ than he’d ever felt in his own tiny apartment. When he asked if he could live there forever, Jones shrugged and said, “Genius.”


	2. Chapter 2

2014  
House of Jones

Dan woke to the sound of his phone screaming at him. Although he never bothered personalizing his ring tones, he still felt that Claire’s ring was somehow angrier and more judgmental than anyone else’s.

He refused the call and staggered to the kitchen where a pot of coffee was already brewing. Jones was happily dancing around the table and eating cereal.

Dan could barely manage a nod, but Jones greeted him with his usual effusive grin.

“You better get showered, we’re supposed to be at Claire’s in an hour.”

Dan wondered why Claire was already calling if they weren’t even late yet. After four years, going to Claire’s on Christmas day felt like a longstanding tradition, one that no longer filled Dan with dread.

Until his phone began ringing again. That inspired a bit of dread. Dan reluctantly answered, “Happy Christmas, little sister…”

“Are you actually mental? Should I just have you put in a home now instead of watching you slowly decline? Please tell me now, so I can start the process.”

Dan’s mind creaked along, trying to make sense of his sister’s current rant. He noticed a bit of dried blood on his knuckles and vaguely remembered a tussle with a Christmas tree.

“Is this about… the tree?”

“The tree? Is this about the tree? Dan, the tree can’t have you arrested. The tree doesn’t have a video of you trying to kill it with your bare hands!”

Dan took a drink of very hot coffee and let the pain and caffeine waken his sleepy brain.

“Is this about me trying to strangle Nathan Barley?”

“Yes, Dan. This is about the attempted murder, recorded by Pingu in front of hundreds of witnesses, including me. You could go to prison, Dan.”

Dan tried to imagine a world so unfair as to imprison a man for killing Nathan Barley instead of giving him a medal. Dan could be a bit misanthropic, but he had more faith in his fellow humans than to think they would be so cruelly unjust.

“Listen, Claire, it’s fine and I have to get ready for Christmas lunch at your house…”

“We’ll talk more when you get here,” Claire snapped before hanging up. Dan sighed and put his head on the table.

“What’s got Claire riled up?” Jones asked between bites of cereal.

“She’s worried I’m going to jail for trying to kill Nathan Barley. The usual.”

Jones nodded his understanding and continued to eat, all in time with the music in his head.

“Are the gifts ready?” Dan asked.

Jones grinned. “They’re genius!”

Xxx

House of Jones  
1994

Dan woke up on a stranger’s couch on Christmas morning. It was his first Christmas properly away from home. He’d lived at home while going to University and even while working his first writing job as a music critic for a small local magazine. When, against all odds, he landed a job at Sugar Ape, it meant leaving the nest for the first time.

He told his parents he couldn’t come home for Christmas, because he was too busy getting established at work to leave. The truth was, he was afraid if he went home to Leeds, he’d end up staying there. The call of his home and family, properly cooked meals, and friends tempted him day and night. Each time Claire opined that she wanted to join him in Shoreditch, Dan was tempted to encourage her to do just that. Sometimes he fantasized about having his teenage sister around for company, he was that desperately lonely.

So, in that way, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up in a stranger’s home on Christmas morning. At least he wasn’t alone.

His host was passed out on the floor next to a small DJ setup, but he appeared to be breathing, so Dan went in search of coffee. He’d have time for small talk (like learning the name of his host) after he had enough caffeine in his system to think straight.

Xxx

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Claire’s decision to become a mum had been surprising in many ways, and yet it seemed to suit her well. In her thirties and with her biological clock ticking, Claire had decided it was time to live “any place that isn’t Shoreditch” and raise a child. As she was not seeing anyone, was not especially interested in anyone, and didn’t want to be a single mother, she went about finding a co-parent.

Dan had been initially horrified, but Claire had taken a genetic roll of the dice with Ned Smanks, and the gamble paid off. Her little girl, Maya, had Claire’s fiery personality and intelligence and seemed to only inherit her gravity defying hair and flawless skin from her father.

Dan didn’t understand the situation, nor did he want to. Claire and Ned shared a house, a child, and a budding graphic design company. They were together nearly 24 hours a day, but if anyone asked if they were a couple, Claire made it excessively clear that they were not (though Ned seemed less sure).

Ned was an attentive father and a moderately talented artist, and most importantly, he was not Nathan Barley. Dan reluctantly accepted that it was none of his business. Claire told Dan when to show up at her house and when to bring presents for his niece. It was nice to have someone demystify the process of social reciprocity.

Jones clearly had a literal caffeine buzz. He seemed to vibrate with nervous energy as he stood beside Dan. He’d already started dancing by the time Ned and Maya answered the door. Father and daughter had both adorned their hair with garland and tinsel and other assorted Christmas decorations. Dan wondered which one of them came up with the idea. It was such a profoundly childish thing to do, that Dan’s money was on Ned.

“Presents!” Maya yelled as she reached for the shiny packages in Jones’ hands. Jones had painted tinfoil to use for wrapping paper (when they belatedly remembered Maya’s gifts needed to be wrapped). Maya’s childhood was non-conventional in so many ways, Claire liked to introduce as much normality as possible into her daughter’s existence. When Uncle Dan showed up for Christmas with his non-euphemistic flatmate Jones, he needed to have properly wrapped gifts. Claire always offered to pay for the gifts, or even buy and wrap them herself, but Dan had just enough dignity left to refuse. Jones was allowed to bring whatever he liked, and he’d made some lovely gifts for Maya over the years. Every year, Claire looked terrified when Jones handed over a parcel, and it was something of a Christmas tradition to watch her nervously unwrap the gifts and then melt when she realized they weren’t wildly inappropriate.

Sometimes, sitting in Claire’s tastefully appointed home and being called Uncle Dan, Dan imagined what it would be like if Jones was his life partner (in the Biblical sense). Now that he was in his forties, Dan found it would probably be easier to cope with suddenly identifying as bisexual than admitting he still needed a flatmate and probably always would. Dan was never going to grow up, and it wasn’t nearly the fun Peter Pan made it out to be.

Jones handed Maya the top package.

“You can open this one now; it’s from me. The other has to wait until your mum says you can have it.”

Maya squealed with delight and tore open the gift. Jones had given the dark-haired Barbie Claire’s distinctive, furrowed brow and dressed her in a sensible outfit. The pipe cleaners were gone from the little girl doll, and her hair was now a huge puff of curls.

“We’re Barbies!” Maya screamed. “Mummy! We’re Barbies! You are NOT going to believe this. WE ARE BARBIES!”

Dan was humbled by Jones’ gift. As always, Jones had seen a whole world that Dan was blind to.

Jones laughed as Maya ran out of the room, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Maybe you should have saved that gift,” Dan whispered, suddenly feeling intimidated by the judgment of a five-year-old.

But Jones laughed and gave Dan a playful shove.

“No worries, Uncle Dan.” Jones tapped the remaining parcel. “This gift is golden. You totally nailed Christmas this year. Genius.”


	3. Chapter 3

1994  
House of Jones

When Dan asked his name, the DJ simply said, “Jones.” It struck Dan as very cool to just have one name. Of course, everything seemed cool to Dan, because he was the opposite of cool. At Sugar Ape, he was the one trying to write stories that felt meaningful and important while writers like Jonatton Yeah? used their stories to meet celebrities and get laid. Most of the crew at Sugar Ape was lost in an endless bacchanal while Dan watched from afar and supped on the leftover crumbs. 

Dan didn’t learn much about Jones, but he ended up telling the quasi-stranger his own life story. Jones didn’t say much, but he gently prodded Dan to continue every time he worried he was over-sharing and tried to clam up. It also helped that every time Dan’s wine glass neared the dregs, Jones would top him off. 

Dan talked about his fear of failure, his family’s unfounded faith in his abilities, and the constant, nagging voice that wondered if he hadn’t been hired at Sugar Ape by mistake. 

Jones laughed and shrugged at Dan’s litany of fears, not dismissing them but viewing them as amusing quirks of the universe. He said profound things like: “Of course your parents think you’re amazing, they’re your parents. Not like they’re going to change their mind if you don’t do well at Sugar Ape. They love you, they don’t give a fuck about Sugar Ape, do they?” and “If they did hire you by accident, then they’re fucked ‘cause they need a good reason to fire you. They couldn’t admit they fucked up. That would be well unprofessional.” 

Dan expected Jones to point out some of the flaws in his thinking, but Jones accepted everything Dan said with a smile and a nod. Dan had always been drawn to neurotic over-thinkers – a quality that did not help him make friends at Sugar Ape – but he enjoyed Jones’ casual acceptance of the world. While he was pretty sure Jones was on at least one mind-altering substance, there was still something about him that called to Dan. 

Something other than his startlingly beautiful eyes.

But Dan was still very much under the spell of those baby blues, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him, and when Jones let out a gasp of surprise it made Dan laugh. They giggled and snogged like horny teenagers for what felt like hours. As much as Dan wanted to take things further, he wasn’t quite drunk enough to not care that Jones was a man. 

It was Jones that let him off the hook. 

“Ever done it with a guy before?”

“Um… well…”

“Is it that hard a question?”

“I haven’t. Been with a man. Never really thought about it before,” Dan admitted, more or less honestly. “It’s not a big deal…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jones agreed before he jumped off the couch to make another pot of coffee. Dan watched Jones dance to the music in his head as he made a full pot of coffee at nearly midnight. 

Dan finished the wine straight from the bottle. Finally feeling loose enough to put aside thoughts of sexual identity (and mechanics), Dan walked into the kitchen and danced with Jones. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and they swayed while the coffee percolated.

“Can I spend the night again?”

Jones shrugged, “Told you, you can stay forever.”

That night, they exchanged handjobs while fully dressed on Jones’ bed, then Dan drifted off to sleep while Jones returned to his turntables.

Xxx

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Claire gave Dan a death stare that reiterated her promise that they would “talk” before he left, before sending him and Jones to help Maya put together the gingerbread houses she’d been left by Santa. Claire always gave Jones some kind of crafty task when he came for a visit. Maya, under the tutelage of Jones, was surely the most eccentric artist in her class. Claire wanted Maya to experience normality, but she clearly had no interest in raising a boring child.

“Put on some Christmas-y music,” Claire suggested before disappearing back into the kitchen with Ned (after he yelled, “Things are getting… intense in here!”) Dan couldn’t judge Ned’s incompetence in the kitchen. He and Jones lived on take-out, sandwiches, and cereal. 

Dan felt overwhelmed by Claire’s iPod full of unfamiliar songs, and made a quick playlist of the first songs he came across that made him think of Christmas before literally rolling up his sleeves (it was another new shirt - gray with pink stripes) and getting down to work. He took charge of actually reading the directions while Maya and Jones began sneaking the candy that was meant to decorate the finished product.

Dan was carefully icing the fourth wall of the first house into place when Maya asked, “Are you and Uncle Dan going to get married?”

Jones laughed.

“I don’t think Uncle Dan is the marrying type.”

Dan watched his carefully constructed house collapse.

“You can start again!” Maya yelled, as she nearly knocked Dan over to begin scraping the icing off the gingerbread with her fingers. Jones quickly followed suit until Dan again had four plain walls.

He thought he’d avoided an awkward conversation, but then Maya continued.

“Two boys can get married, you know. Boys can’t have babies in their bellies, unless they were born with girl parts, but they can adopt a baby. Do you want a baby, Jones?”

Dan stared at his project and felt grateful Maya seemed to be focused on Jones. There was an advantage to not being good with kids.

“Mmm… I like kids,” Jones answered. “I don’t know if I want a baby. I don’t like waking up early.”

“I sleep sooooo late!” Maya yelled. “I sleep until 8 o’clock! Can you even believe it?”

Jones sounded appropriately impressed while Dan chuckled to himself. He could hear his sister so clearly in Maya’s tone. She was nothing like Claire had been as a child. Maya was sweet and artsy, while Claire had been a tomboy who liked fighting and tearing things apart, but Maya often sounded like adult Claire. She had the confidence, the fieriness and, of course, the bossiness. She was a five-year-old who really knew herself and Dan found it a little intimidating.

Claire poked her head into the living room, “What are you listening to?”

Dan hadn’t really been paying attention. A Hozier song he kept hearing at the office was playing.

“It’s about going to church,” Dan explained, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Looking at Claire’s judgmental face, he was suddenly aware that lyrics like “I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife” were perhaps not in the spirit of the season.

And yet, the song still felt more appropriate than the cheery nonsense their mother favored. The Ashcrofts were not especially religious, but Dan had attended church every Sunday and sat transfixed by stories of death, betrayal and incest. He learned early on not to ask his parents about the sermons, so he just sat with the horrible tales. He was aware that the story of Christ was supposed to be reassuring, but to Dan, it would always be about how the only way to get people to take your message seriously was if you were willing to be nailed to a cross rather than edit your story.

Claire picked up the iPod. “And John Cale’s ‘Hallelujah’ is coming up next. What happened to you as a child, Dan?”

Under the exaggerated hostility, Dan saw a real question. They’d been raised in the same home. Why was Claire confident and driven while Dan was so fragile and weak? Maybe their parents had learned from the mistakes they made with Dan.

Claire put on some proper Christmas music and left them to their work.

As soon as Claire left the room, Maya declared, “If you want to marry Uncle Dan, you should take him on lots and lots of dates. You can go dancing. You could go ice skating.”

Maya and Jones dissolved into hysterical giggles as Dan focused all his energy on putting a roof on his gingerbread house. Maybe he couldn’t afford or maintain a real house, but he’d be fucked if he couldn’t put together a house made of candy.

It was the story of his life; he just kept lowering his standards in hopes that someday he’d feel like he had a grip on it all.

Xxx

House of Jones   
1994

Dan woke up, fully dressed, in Jones’ bed. It was a Monday, but the offices were closed for Christmas Eve. If he were in the bed of a strange woman, he’d feel like his holiday was off to a good start. Even Dan could make a relationship last three days. 

But lovely handjob aside, he wasn’t about to start a relationship with Jones, so he couldn’t possibly invite himself to stay for the holiday. It would be too strange. Too needy.

Jones groaned unhappily before he opened his eyes and gave Dan a blinding smile.

“You’re still here. Genius. You can help me make a Christmas tree.”


	4. Chapter 4

1994  
Random alleyway in Shoreditch

Dan had never been dumpster diving before, and the process was making him feel oddly bourgeois. He resisted his desire to endlessly ask, “Should we be doing this?” At an intellectual level, he knew there was no reason for him to not recycle the garbage they found (other than it was probably illegal), but it still felt deeply wrong. It also smelled awful.

“Look at this!” Jones yelled. Dan watched as Jones hauled a mannequin free from an alley. Dan recognized the mannequin from his youth. It had been a popular model with an austere face, bald head and a healthy bosom. He flushed at the memory of sneaking a feel of her rock hard breast as a child. 

“She is genius! Remember giving mannequins a feel-up when you were a kid?” Jones pulled a disturbing face, like a demented clown, as he slowly reached his finger over to poke one breast with his index finger.

Dan wanted to feign ignorance or even act appalled, but he remained silent.

“She’ll be perfect,” Jones promised as he arranged one of her arms so she seemed to be hanging on to Jones as he hoisted her onto his back. “This is going to be the best Christmas tree ever.”

Dan looked at the box of tree limbs and broken ornaments in his hands. He had no idea what Jones planned to do, but he was keen to find out. He was due for some new Christmas traditions to suit his new life.

Xxx

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Dan constructed three gingerbread houses while Jones and Maya worked on turning them into the strangest homes ever seen. Jones had written GingerHouse of Jones on one and covered it in stick figure people with candy heads. Maya had turned one into a house-shaped cat with window eyes and a string of popcorn for a tail. The third house had been given a full head of icing hair. Dan saw Claire’s eyes widen with concern as she looked at the strange houses, but she smiled and told Maya she was doing a wonderful job. Then she ordered Dan into the kitchen for a scolding.

Dan tried to sit up straight as he sat in the kitchen and watched Claire basting a turkey. She looked like such a proper adult, he felt a need to keep up.

“I talked to Nathan. He is willing to not press charges or release the video if you’ll just apologize.”

“Why would I apologize?”

“You tried to murder him, Dan! You were drunk and you tried to strangle him. That is not acceptable. That’s a crime. That could mean actual prison.”

“He was wearing my clothes!” Even Dan had to admit it sounded a bit weak, but a man could only be pushed so far. His whole life had been co-opted by Nathan Barley. The only thing that had remained safe was his ‘wardrobe’. Nathan was never so desperate to imitate Dan that he’d wear an outfit that wasn’t from one of his trendy shops.

Claire grabbed a picture off of her refrigerator and slammed it on the counter in front of Dan. It was cut from a glossy magazine and featured a handsome young man with perfect hair wearing Dan’s stripy shirt, blazer and even his pink tee-shirt. Another male model was wearing the shirt Dan currently wore (minus all the bits of icing). 

“What’s this?” Dan asked, sincerely confused. He looked at his stripy pink shirt and wondered if it was truly what the young and beautiful were wearing, and if it was, why did it also come in Dan’s size?

“It’s the advert Ned and I did for Topman. Mum bought you all of these outfits.” As she spoke, Dan realized that every outfit in the picture was familiar. “It might be the first time she’s ever been supportive of me. You and Nathan were both dressed like this model because you are both fucking mindless children. Now, apologize to Nathan for trying to kill him and let’s be done with this.”

Dan was a big enough man to admit when he was wrong, but he could never pretend that Nathan did not deserve to be throttled.

“I wouldn’t have gone after him if he didn’t constantly egg me on…”

“He’s not egging you on!” Claire cried. She flailed her arms and sent turkey juice flying in her anger. “He admires you. He wants to be close to you. I don’t know why, but he does. You could just talk to him and, I don’t know, sort him out instead of just making it worse.”

“He has humiliated me on countless occasions…”

“You do that to yourself! Nathan isn’t bright enough to torture you. You are the one making yourself miserable.”

“I just try to live my life and he’s always there, poking at me and turning everything to shit. You can’t see it because you love fucking those fucking idiots.”

Dan tried to chase away the disturbing images of Claire and Nathan and Ned and any other idiots she may have gotten off with over the years. Claire seemed to have a fetish for men nearly too stupid to function.

Claire had the decency to flush, but she wasn’t softened for a moment.

“If you can’t think about me, or Maya or our parents or anyone else, can you at least think about Jones? What is he going to do if you get locked up?”

Dan shrugged, “Who knows if Jones would even notice?”

Dan was imagining Jones turning Dan’s bed into a home for his strange collection of toys when Claire squirted him in the face with hot turkey juice.

“You are impossible!” Claire yelled. “Apologize to Nathan before I kill you and Maya has to become a ward of the state!”

Dan cleaned his face and hair the best he could and shuffled back into the living room. Ned was using his artistic skills to draw feet under the House of Jones as though it had fallen on and crushed someone, Wicked Witch of the East-style.

He looked up at Dan’s wet hair and shirt.

“Is Claire still angry?” he asked.

Dan shrugged. “I’ll just stay out here for a while to be safe.”

Dan watched Maya carefully color in one of the people on the GingerHouse of Jones.

“This is you,” Maya explained. She was using a gel icing to give him a pink shirt. Jones had already given him some shaggy licorice hair. 

Dan asked about the woman next to him wearing a dress made of marshmallows. 

“That’s Jones,” Maya giggled. “You’re getting married! I’m the flower girl!”

Maya pointed to the little figure between Dan and bride-Jones. Her hair was made of gumdrops.

“Boys can get married, you know,” Maya said in her know-it-all Claire voice. “Girls can marry girls, boys can marry boys, girls can marry boys and girls can marry nobody.”

Dan smiled at Maya and shot a quizzical look at Jones, but his flatmate was busy filling out the wedding party. Dan did not appreciate Claire’s Polo mint cleavage but he was impressed he recognized so many of the candy figures. 

“You forgot Nathan Barley,” Dan joked as he looked at his bruised and scratched knuckles.

Dan grabbed the icing and began drawing a figure under Dan’s feet. Dan imagined marrying Jones with one foot on Nathan Barley’s neck. Any day that involved having his foot on Nathan’s throat was likely to be the happiest day of Dan Ashcroft’s life.

Xxx

1994  
House of Jones

The mannequin’s arms had been replaced with tree branches. She looked elegant, but creepy, reaching out with her evergreen arms. Dan had spent hours nailing branches to her waist and legs to create a skirt. It looked pretty sad, but then Jones filled it in with smaller branches and a hot glue gun until her skirt looked like the bottom of a fir tree. Dan felt proud of what they’d accomplished through hours of hard work (and copious amounts of sweat and swear words). He wasn’t sure why they’d worked so hard to make a creepy tree lady, but there was still a sense of accomplishment in seeing the completed project.

“So… this is your Christmas tradition?” Dan asked. They hadn’t spoken in hours. They just worked in silence as Jones blasted a mixture of music and random noises.

Jones laughed.

“I’ve never done this before. Normally, I just make a little wreath. This is much better. I’m rubbish with a hammer. I hope you’re around next year.”

Dan flushed and stared at his hands. Jones hadn’t made a move since their earlier tryst, but Dan felt like he owed his host some kind of explanation.

“Jones, I just wanted to say… I really appreciate you letting me stay and… the thing is, I’m… I’m not sure how to really…”

Jones grinned. “Professional wordsmith, you are.”

“I don’t want to mislead you.”

Jones suddenly turned serious and it made Dan profoundly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if Jones was constantly high or if he was crazy - or both - but it was alarming to see him looking focused when he wasn’t at his turntables.

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend. You can relax, mate.”

“What are you looking for?”

Jones grinned, suddenly back to his impish self. “I’m looking for a flatmate who knows how to use a hammer, what do you think?”

“You should talk to my dad, then,” Dan suggested. “He’s a DIY guy.”

Jones smiled. “Is he fit as you?”

Dan blushed at the compliment. Since moving out of his parents’ home, he’d been feeling like a child. He felt inadequate to care for himself, like a little boy passing himself off as an adult. Jones made him feel like a kid in the best possible way. He felt ready for adventure, full of hope, and horny at random intervals.

Jones pressed a chaste kiss to Dan’s cheek.

“We can have it off when we feel like it. It’s not a big thing. Besides, I’m saving myself for David Bowie.”

Dan thought about Jones’ words as they reconstituted broken Christmas ornaments. He tried to return them to their original forms, but Jones was creating bizarre mini-sculptures. Dan had a vision of himself as a witty and urbane writer, living it up in Shoreditch until he settled down in a suburb with a wife who knew how to cook. He assumed children would be involved at some point. He’d never really questioned if that was what he wanted from his life, or just what he assumed was on the horizon. So far, spending time with Jones was the closest he’d come to really living the Shoreditch experience. He generally spent his nights alone or on disastrous blind dates. He’d always done all right with women in Leeds, but Shoreditch Dan was a million times more self-conscious, nervous, and brittle than his former self. Second dates were a rarity. 

Jones eventually blew a noise maker, knocking Dan out of his reverie, and announced that their tree was now complete and “totally fucking genius!”

Dan instinctively put his hand on Jones’ waist and then wondered if the gesture was too intimate.

Jones grinned up at him and said, “Happy Christmas.” His face was pure joy. Dan didn’t think, he just kissed him by the light of the creepy but beautiful tree lady.


	5. Chapter 5

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Jones wore a wedding gown made of wrapping paper and ribbon. Ned had shown a real flair for fashion design as he wrapped Jones into his outfit. Jones refused to have his hair crushed by a cellophane veil, so that went on Dan’s head. Maya gave him a ribbon boutonniere, but he was otherwise allowed to go through the ceremony as himself. Jones held a bouquet of tissue paper and Maya tossed ribbon ‘flowers’ about the room. Dan was worried about the inevitable fallout from Claire over the mess, but he hoped Ned would take the majority of Claire’s ire, as he was actually Maya’s father and lived in the home. That surely made him the responsible adult in the room.

“Do you, Jones, take Dan to have and to hold, to cherish and adore, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and other things of that sort?” Ned asked in a solemn tone.

“Yeah!”

“Dan, do you promise to love and care for Jones the DJ, until you’re both very old and ugly, even if his ear and nose hair starts getting well out of control…”

“Daddy!” Maya yelled. She sounded so much like Claire, they all gave a guilty start.

“Sorry,” Ned said sheepishly. “Dan, do you promise to love Jones the DJ a little more every year as you travel together on life’s journey?”

Dan’s throat clenched, but he squeaked out an “I do.”

“You may now kiss the flower girl.”

Dan scooped Maya up into his arms and he and Jones each kissed one of her cheeks. She screamed about Dan’s stubble, but then asked them to do it again. They happily obliged until Ned stole her away. Dan was not the parental type and never one to feel overly enthusiastic about babies or children, but he did enjoy holding Maya. During the weeks after she was born, when Claire was suffering so badly from postpartum depression she could barely get out of bed, it was usually Jones or Ned who took care of Maya while Dan focused on his sister, but once in a while it was his turn with the baby. He would sit wherever he was told to sit and hold her the way he was told to hold her and not move until he was relieved. He was too big and awkward to hold a baby. He marveled that Maya ever got comfortable in his nervous grasp, but she would snuggle into his arms and sleep peacefully. Sometimes she even tried to nurse from him. He felt a new level of sympathy for his sister the first time Maya latched onto his nipple. If he’d been standing, he might have fallen to his knees in pain. The infant lacked the strength to support her own head, but she could have surely gummed the paint off of a car.

Dan was about to remove his veil when Jones stopped him.

“Not so fast,” Jones teased. “This is the closest I’ve ever come to making a real commitment.”

Jones pushed back Dan’s cellophane veil and kissed him tenderly while Maya and Ned pointed and laughed. When Ned yelled, “Benders!”, Maya made him put a pound in the swear jar and promise to only yell, “Homosexuals!” in the future.

Xxx

1994  
House of Jones

For Christmas dinner, Dan and Jones ate Chinese takeaway. Jones decorated the boxes like presents to make it more festive. They drank every bit of liquor in the house and watched Christmas movies. They discussed the symbolic racism and homophobia in Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer, the message of conformity in “It’s a Wonderful Life” and the heavy-handed messianic theme of Frosty the Snowman.

“George Bailey is a bit Jesus-y as well.” Dan had assumed Jones was asleep, because he’d been quietly lying with his head in Dan’s lap for over an hour without speaking.

“Explain,” was the most articulate response Dan could form. He hadn’t had a drink in an hour, but he was still shockingly wasted.

“Everything would have been shit if he were never born, so he has to just accept always being dumped on for the sake of others. Like Jesus,” Jones explained.

“But George Bailey gets to marry Donna Reed. He has a bunch of cute kids and a nice house. People respect him. Things don’t turn out the way he wanted, but George Bailey has love. He matters to people.”

“People love Jesus.”

“People loved him after he died,” Dan clarified. “Not the same. Who cares if people love you when you aren’t around to enjoy it?”

“A surprising thing to hear from a writer,” Jones murmured, sounding half asleep.

Dan shrugged. “I write articles, not novels. I know no one is gonna give a shit in a few years. I’d just like for someone to care right now. People who care, a wife who’ll fix up a place for me to live and confidence that there was a point in my existence? I’ll take George Bailey’s stultifying life any day.”

Jones slowly shifted so he could look Dan in the eyes. His blue eyes were bloodshot, but still piercing as he said, “I care. I turned this empty building into a flat for you…”

“For me? You just met me.”

“You’re here,” Jones explained with the air of a great (if pissed) philosopher. “It must have been for you. Wasn’t for me, that’s for sure.”

Dan thought about what Jones said, and about George Bailey and wondered if moving into the House of Jones wouldn’t be a smart move after all. He could save up money for a proper home and stop worrying about finding friends or a girlfriend to keep him from being lonely. He could finally start being an adult. He’d already decided to be a better brother to Claire. Maybe she’d turn out to be someone important. There was surely a place for Dan Ashcroft between Jesus-level suffering and George Bailey-level banality. He would have discussed his theories with Jones, but the DJ was snoring gently with his head still in Dan’s lap.

Xxx

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Every year, Claire’s holiday dinner improved by leaps and bounds. While Christmas dinner was nothing like those of Dan’s youth, they were tasty and comforting. Growing up, holidays had always been stressful for Dan, but he liked Christmas at Claire’s. He had expected the presence of Ned Smanks to be a constant shadow of idiocy, but now that Ned was allowing Claire to dictate his every move instead of Shoreditch fashions, he wasn’t unbearable. He was dim-witted but kind, and he loved Claire and Maya with the kind of devotion they deserved. He also made really good mashed potatoes. Dan wanted to join Jones and Maya in their constant efforts to sneak another helping, but he played the adult and even insisted Jones eat a few sprouts. Dan created a plate exactly like Claire’s in a effort to role model the proper eating habits (that he did not have) that Claire wanted for Maya. Meanwhile, Ned made a mashed potato face with Brussels sprout eyes that was so cute, Maya refused to let him eat it.

Dan’s stomach knotted when it was time to exchange gifts. Despite Jones’ reassurance, Dan was unsure of their gift. It had been a drunken idea of Dan’s that Jones turned into a reality.

At Maya’s insistence, the adults exchanged gifts first. Claire and Ned gave Dan a soft leather messenger bag and a bound collection of his articles with additional graphics from Ned.

Claire explained, “In case you need to show someone your work, like if you have an interview…”

“You forgot to laminate my CV,” Dan said, trying to keep his tone neutral in front of Maya.

“Look in the bag,” Ned said before being elbowed by Claire. Dan appreciated Claire’s belief in his ability to do something better than work at Sugar Ape, but he was afraid. For some reason, Sugar Ape saw Dan as an important part of their image. As he got older, he became terrified of giving up that security.

“It’s for any new opportunities, not just job interviews,” Claire clarified. “I thought you should be able to show off your work. It’s worth showing off.”

Dan wilted under Claire’s sincere praise. He felt like a child in an adult’s body as the gift exchange continued. Claire and Ned gushed over the electronic tablet Jones picked out, but all Dan knew about it was that it was expensive and Jones swore every artist wanted one.

“It’s slightly used,” Jones admitted as Ned caressed the tablet in a mildly disturbing manner. “I needed it for this.”

Jones handed Maya her gift and Dan fought the urge to grab it back and replace it with cash so Maya could buy herself a normal present.

Maya tore the gift open and screamed.

“I’m on a book! First, I’m a Barbie and now I’m on a book! Can you believe it, Mum?”

Claire furrowed her brow, but she didn’t glare at Dan, which was always a good sign.

Claire turned to the first page, where a cartoon Claire with hair like a mermaid and a storm cloud over her head (and an authentically perturbed look on her face) sets out on her journey to create the perfect child by taking qualities from the people around her. She took her mother’s smile and her father’s boisterous laugh. She took Dan’s ability to write and Ned’s artistry. She took Jones’ creativity and Pingu’s patience. Claire had tears in her eyes and Ned was openly weeping as they went through the pages. Dan still felt nervous about the writing, but he loved Jones’ illustrations. He even liked the drawing of himself looking baffled as Claire plucked the pen from his hand and put it in her purse. The image bore little resemblance to what Dan saw in the mirror, and that could only be a good thing.

As the story winds toward the end, Claire holds a beautiful, bald baby in her arms. She takes the storm cloud from above her own head and puts it on baby Maya’s head. Unsatisfied, Claire takes the air from Nathan Barley’s head and blows it into Maya’s hair until it turns into the beautiful puff of hair that is featured on the front cover. On the second to last page, Claire tells Ned that she still needs to give their baby a heart, but Ned tells her it isn’t necessary. On the final page, Ned explains that Maya already has the heart of Claire, Ned, her grandparents and everyone else mentioned in the book. Dan braced for an eye roll, but Claire just stared at the final page with tears rolling down her face as Maya tried to comfort her.

Later, he would gloat about reducing Claire to tears and how motherhood had made her soft, but for the moment, Dan enjoyed the feeling of finally having gotten Christmas right.


	6. Chapter 6

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

One of Dan’s favorite new Christmas traditions was sneaking outside for a fag. Claire had given up smoking for Maya, and Dan was relying almost entirely on electronic cigarettes after getting bronchitis five times in as many months. It was no surprise that Claire gave up smoking for motherhood, but Dan was surprised to learn he cared more about breathing than smoking. 

Claire took a long drag and coughed until there were tears in her eyes. Dan and Jones jeered at her weakness before following suit. Dan coughed so hard, he nearly lost consciousness. He leaned heavily on Jones and stared at the stars through tear-blurred eyes. The oxygen restriction made him feel high.

“Jones, you’re so talented. That book could be tweaked and put on book shelves,” Claire said once she regained her composure. “Have you ever considered illustrating professionally?”

Dan watched Jones intently as his flatmate laughed. 

“Trying is the first step towards failure,” Jones explained. 

Claire rolled her eyes. “You’ve been living with Dan too long. Since when are you afraid of other people’s opinions?”

Jones shrugged and sank into his oversized winter coat. It had been big on Dan before Jones absorbed it into his own wardrobe. 

“I have seen you DJ in a thong,” Claire continued. “You are not self-conscious.” 

Dan wanted to defend Jones, but couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make Jones feel more exposed. Claire had no remarkable talent or intellect; her gift was the kind of dogged determination that did not allow for failure. If Claire was capable of feeling insecure, she’d buried that weakness beneath so many layers of armor it was no longer relevant.

“Performance is transitory,” Jones explained. “It’s an experience that ends and then only exists in hollow recordings and inconsistent memories.”

Dan smiled at Jones’ explanation. Jones was an eccentric character, but when he spoke from the heart, he could be surprisingly articulate. 

“Bullshit. You guys are just chickenshit and I’m not just talking about your careers. Christ, even Maya sees it.”

Claire’s dark eyes focused on Dan with such intensity, he wanted to hide behind Jones. He wanted to climb inside Jones’ coat with him and let the frost-resistant material shield him from Claire’s judgment. 

They were saved by Ned appearing and announcing, “The turkey. It’s too big. It’s too big to go in the refrigerator.” 

Jones and Dan remained still as Claire turned her barely restrained disgust to Ned and breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief when she followed Ned inside, asking if he’d heard of the invention called “a knife”.

“You really are talented,” Dan whispered when Claire was gone. 

“I’m also chickenshit,” Jones whispered back. “She’s right, but I’m too old to change. Besides, I have my sugar daddy. I’m all set. You should have gotten a prenup.”

Dan smiled as Jones wriggled his way under Dan’s arm.

“Aren’t sugar daddies supposed to be rich? Or at least making a decent living?”

“Shit. I knew I was forgetting something.”

Dan rested his head against Jones’ and took another drag from his cigarette. It was Jones’ turn to hold Dan as he coughed until tears were pouring down his face.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day Dan Ashcroft couldn’t handle a fag,” Jones said mournfully. “It’s like finding out Father Christmas isn’t real.”

“More like Father Christmas is cutting out carbs to control his diabetes,” Dan corrected. “We all get old eventually.”

Jones wiped the tears from Dan’s cheeks with the sleeve of Dan’s former coat. Dan was dizzy from the lack of oxygen and Jones’ eyes were luminous in the low light.

“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” Dan asked.

Jones pretended to think hard. “Not sure what I’d say. I’d have to move out in the middle of the night, obviously, run away and start a new life to avoid the awkwardness…”

“Maybe move all the way to Islington?” Dan suggested.

Jones grimaced, “That’s a bit far. Do they even use the same currency there?”

Dan shrugged. “I have no idea. I know you think I’m a savvy world traveler, being from Leeds and all, but I have allowed the moss to grow beneath my feet.”

“I could see you married.” Dan couldn’t place it, but there was something odd about Jones’ voice as he spoke. “You could have a life like this. This could suit you.”

Xxx

1994  
House of Jones

Dan carried the sleeping DJ to his bed, and while Jones had stayed sound asleep through the awkward process of picking him up off the couch, the moment he was on his bed, his eyes shot open.

“Stay,” Jones implored softly, holding out his hand. 

Dan allowed himself to be pulled into Jones’ bed and soon they were half naked and desperately grinding their bodies together. Dan was still drunk and full of Christmas melancholy, but Jones was beautiful and inviting in all his bony strangeness. 

When Jones fell asleep on Dan’s arm, he took the excuse to stay where he was. After all, Jones had invited him to stay forever. Another night couldn’t hurt.

Xxx

A Place that isn’t Shoreditch  
2014

Jones was giggling and it was making it hard for Dan to stay properly angry. Claire had smugly shown Dan his “real Christmas gift”, a vlog entry on trashbat.co.ck where Nathan explained why no one should be worried about his recent tussle with Dan Ashcroft. Highlights included Nathan thanking women of all ages and sizes for their support and his explanation that the fight was simply a “supernova caused by an ancient star imploding in the presence of a younger, sexier star.” He assured his fans that his “beef” with Dan was now “anch-istory”, which apparently meant ancient history but sounded like h-istory. Nathan’s stupidity was painful, but Dan couldn’t work up a proper fury. He’d come to the decision that it was, in fact, better to not spend his holidays in prison for assault.

Jones took Dan’s hand as they walked to their rented car.

“I don’t want you to slip on the ice, old man.”

“If… when I actually murder Nathan Barley, will you come visit me in prison?” Dan asked. He couldn’t stop thinking of what Claire had said about Dan leaving Jones alone. His flat mate was the most self-sufficient person he’d ever met, yet he had remained with Dan for two decades. Jones refused to buy plants because he felt panicky at the responsibility, but he never hesitated to take care of Dan through his self-inflicted ailments.

“I’ll just jump in and help,” Jones responded. “Maybe we can be cellmates.”

“I do love you.”

“I know.”

As Dan drove back to the city, he had no more clue what he wanted from life than he’d had the day before, but he felt more at peace. Whatever it was that he had with Jones, whatever it was that kept his career going – he was doing all right. What was job security or a clearly defined sexuality to a person like Dan? 

“Let’s write a children’s book,” Dan suggested as the drove. He could feel Jones’ discomfort and it made him smile.

“Why would we do that?” Jones asked in a nervous voice.

“Time to stop being chickenshit. Why not?”

Jones made a show of moving away from Dan, huddling on his side of the car, but Dan could see he was thinking hard. It felt good to throw Jones through a loop after all their years of comfortable homeostasis.

Dan decided that this year, he would make a New Year’s resolution. He would follow Ned’s advice and “keep it foolish”. He would dedicate his year to pursuing the things he wanted and not worrying about being too old or too immature.

“You’ve got a mad look in your eye,” Jones observed. “Are you really going to kill Nathan? You’re not going to join a gym again, are you? Remember that week? That was really weird. I still haven’t recovered.”

Dan shot Jones a wolfish look at patted his friend’s thigh.

“I might find a way to surprise you.”

Jones giggled and pushed Dan’s hand away. “It’s been twenty years, it’s not that surprising.”

Dan jerked the wheel and pulled the car to the side of the road.

“I bet I can surprise you right now.”

Jones blushed, but maintained his indifferent demeanor. “What are you going to do? Get your cock out on the side of the road in the middle of suburbia?”

“Probably. But first, I’m going to get yours out.”

Jones squawked and fussed at first, but he wasn’t one to refuse a blowjob.

When a police officer knocked on their steam-covered window, he took in the sensible rental car, Dan’s Topman outfit and Jones’ eccentric appearance and sent them on their way. While Jones bemoaned being taken for an over-the-hill rent boy, Dan felt pleased with himself. Maybe he was a chickenshit manchild, but he had somehow managed to cultivate the appearance of a respectable, proper adult. It was a Christmas miracle.

When Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” came on the radio, Jones cranked the song and sang along, adding “fa-la-la-la-la-la” wherever he could.

“You’re right, Dan, this is a good Christmas carol. I’m going to do a proper mix when we get home.”

Dan smiled and sang along.

“Offer me my deathless death, Good God, let me give you my life, fa-la-la-la-la…”


End file.
